Shassie did a bad, bad thing
by insipidity
Summary: Shawn is drawn to things that are wrong. Lassiter seems wrong, but might not be as much. This is going to take a while, but it's going to be L/S.
1. Chapter 1

First one in this fandom, generally a new step. Holla y'all. It's 6.26 am where I am right now, so...yup.

CHAPTER 1

It was a regular day at the SBPD: cases were worked, bad guys were caught and the Chief had the ever-problematic task of deciding who to hand the latest murder. Usually she gave cases like that to det. Lassiter but mr. Spencer was bound to tag along as usual, and the husband of the murdered woman was an old friend of hers with a strict no-nonsense attitude. Giving it to Lassiter was essentially the same as also giving it to Shawn, who would drive Gary nuts, but giving it to someone else would anger Gary even more. She could already here him go:"Why didn't you assign your best cop to handle this?!"

With a sigh, she caved and called Lassiter to her office. Her head detective entered with a relaxed demeanor (for him, at least) and nodded respectfully to the Chief. Ever-eager for a new assignment, Lassiter sat down, anxious to hear what she had to say.

"So. What is it Chief?"

That was one thing that the Chief had always liked about Lassiter; his respect for authority. "The wife of a friend of mine from academy was murdered. I want you to find out who's behind it." As she spoke, she handed him a file.

"I'll get right on it, Chief", Lassiter nodded and got up.

"Wait a second. There's the..." Vick already dreaded his reaction to her..decision. "I need to assign you a temporary partner while det. O'Hara is at that convention. What was it for again?" They were both silent for a while, faces distorted of wonder. "Never mind."

"Oh, I can handle this by myself."

"No, you won't. Your temporary partner is arriving in 5 minutes. He'll meet us here–stay put while I run some things."

Lassiter was confused to see the Chief look guiltily away as she rushed out of the office. He didn't have too long to dwell on her expression as he felt someone grab him from behind and heard a familiar voice: "Hey Lassie-face :-)"

Lassiter's first thought was _what, he even talks in smileys??_ and the second one was, less of a thought and more of a basic instinct: to flip Spencer on his back.

Unfortunately for Shawn, Lassiter often obeys his instincts, at least when the psychic was concerned. He kicked Spencer's legs from under him and watched the psychic fall – that is, until he felt a pull on his hands and saw Spencer reappear. He had grabbed the older man's hands to stop himself from falling and to pull himself back up. Shawn looked immensely pleased with himself, and even Lassiter had to admit it was nicely done of the guy. Lassiter couldn't help breaking into a smile. He soon caught himself, and also noticed that they were still holding hands. He was about to pull away when Shawn, apparently still hopped up on the awesomeness of the moment, brought his face to his.

It wasn't a kiss: _just_ (?) two faces connecting. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, mouth..nervously close to mouth. Shawn hadn't anticipated this at all, he'd just done what he always did, just went with it. He could feel Lassie's hot breath against his own, and even though he was rather sure of liking the ladies, it excited him all the same. Meanwhile, Lassiter assessed that he wasn't in danger, but he didn't exactly know _what_ he was in, and he didn't particularly revel in that feeling. He looked up to see Shawn looking sternly back at him in a challenging manner, urging him to do something, _but what?_ and flinched, breaking the whatever-they-were-in.

Lassiter coughed and then practically growled: "Spencer, what in God's creation was that? This time you went so far out of line, I don't think you even know where the line is!"

"Lass, sweetie, we were nearly sucking face and you deflect by mentioning God? How very catholic of you", Spencer sourly pointed out before seemingly returning to his old self. "Well, you know, I just figured that I'd need to get a closer look on your soul with my psychic abilities if we're going to be partners for a while, Lassie-poo."

Shawn took great pride in the level of disbelief he had just rendered Lassiter in. The SBPD head detective sat down, looking as if he was feeling ill. "You?"

"Yes, me." Shawn observed Lassiter's turmoil as he quite visibly tried to decide what to do.

The Chief returned at last. "Mr. Spencer is the only one available right now, and since mr. Guster is at the same conference as O'Hara, he was quite eager to join forces with you." She tried to phathom how the head detective would react to the news of being stuck with his worst nightmare for the next couple of weeks.

Lassiter's train of thought:_ I can't ask for someone else, because everyone already has a case and is swamped. For the same reason I can't switch partners with someone because they are already familiar with their cases, and it would just hinder someone else's investigation. There was no way out of this._ "Alright."

Shawn reacted like a kid, expecting a fight and trying to get it either way. "What? You can't say 'alright'."

"I can."

"You're never 'alright' with me joining in on your action. Ne-veeer. At least you never say it aloud. Sure, I know you secretly think I'm amazing, but your Amish upbringing simply won't let you admit it--"

"Well, we're just going to have to work together, won't we?" Lassiter cut him off.

"Okay, since it's okay with you too, just get on it", the Chief commanded, showing them the door.

Lassiter and Shawn made their way to Lassiter's office. Before Shawn could sit, Lassiter moved next to him, placed his right hand on his shoulder and whispered: "And Spencer? If you try something like that on me again, I will break your arm."

Shawn smiled at Lassiter's threat as the older man began going through the case file. He figured he could wait a few minutes before having a psychic spasm or whatever, so, sipping on a smoothie, he turned his thoughts to a more pressing matter. _Let's face it, she's already dead. A few minutes of __personal reflection won't do harm to anyone._ He shot a sideway glance at Lassiter. _Always so __serious_, he smiled. He could never help trying to break Lassie's concentration, and it was for his benefit. _I'm a positive influence in his life. Who else is going to shake him up? _Speaking of being shook up, that odd moment they'd shared in the Chief's office had definitely been...what? Horrifying? Threatening? Exciting? He paused for a moment. What? Exciting? He tried to fight it, but yes, he'd felt..tingly, for the lack of a better word. If his mother was here, she'd say it was his classic _if people think it's wrong, I want it_-attitude he'd had since, well, forever. _So, I'm not into him. I just get off on what I feel is wrong. Oh, man I have daddy-issues._

He felt good about his new-found resolve, and was ready to dazzle Lassiter. He looked up and the words he was about to have said got stuck in his throat. Shawn gazed at Lassiter tentatively and he could only think: _I want the tingles back_. He knew it was a bad idea. Alas, when had that ever stopped him?


	2. Chapter 2

When the Chief _thought in her head_ that Shawn and Lassie would be working together for weeks, she was only thinking in her head, not stating facts. Therefore I can bring Gus and Juliet back anytime I want to. This has been spell-checked.

(1) At least in British English _cry _can also mean 'to shout'. Just so you know.

CHAPTER 2

After 30 minutes of cramming, Lassiter finally felt he had enough information to go meet the husband of the deceased. He was quite surprised to note that Shawn hadn't bothered him at all during this time. Lassiter looked up from the case file and saw that the psychic had left the room. He heard loud noises that seemed to be coming from the lobby.

At the lobby, he saw Spencer surrounded by McNab and several other detectives. He turned white as he saw the younger man flashing a photo of him during his 'wild days'.

Spencer was just getting to what he considered the good part. "So this is little Lassie when he was 18 years old. Look at that hair! This is his first bust, look at the arresting off-orgh", the psychic choked as Lassiter grabbed him by the collar and dragged him away from his audience.

Once behind a corner, Lassiter pushed Shawn quite violently against the wall, all the while holding him by his throat. He brought his face close to Shawn's and hissed: "Spencer. I realize that nothing, I mean nothing, is sacred to you, but that photo is from a time in my life that I'm not very proud of. While you may not think it's a big deal, I do. So, if you show that picture to anyone or tell them what you know about my past, I will strangle you. Got it?"

Shawn had barely listened to the head detective's rant, as he'd been far too interested in observing his own reactions to being physically threatened. _Is it wrong that I'm turned on by this?_ he thought. _Oh well, worse things have happened. Though this _does_ raise some nifty questions about my sexual orientation_. Gus wouldn't like hearing about this, which was exactly why he couldn't wait to tell him.

He suddenly remembered Lassiter was still holding him in his grip, and he still hadn't answered the older man. "Okay, I won't. I just don't understand why you're so embarrassed by it. It's the one proof we have of you ever being even remotely cool. I mean, not attractive cool, but still-"

Shawn was once again cut off by Lassiter tightening his grip. "Spencer, you drive me..what are you doing, Spencer?"

Shawn was taken aback by his question, until he realized that there was..significantly less room in his pants than there had been a few seconds ago, let's just leave it at that. He was horrified. _If Lassie wasn't going to kill me a minute ago, this would definitely do the trick._

"Answer your phone, Spencer. But be ready to leave in 5 minutes. We're meeting the husband of the deceased at their mansion." Shawn's knees nearly buckled when Lassiter tapped him on the chest. "And leave me out of your entertainment!" Lassiter added as he left to give him privacy.

Shawn's mind was a blank. _My phone?_ He looked down at his pants. Though still swollen, they felt a bit better. _Lassie thought I had a phone on vibrate? Poor, innocent Lassie. But hey, better for me._ He paused in his thoughts to thank lady Fortuna. _This is a clear indication that she is on my side. Not that there was any doubt about it._

On their way to the mansion:

Det. Lassiter had a very particular comfort zone, as the Chief had once put it. This concerned most areas of his life, including his car. He was the only one allowed to drive his car. Full stop. Choice of channel on the radio was a minor detail that usually didn't cause any problems because Lassiter didn't listen to the radio and O'Hara only listened to relatively mellow music that he could ignore.

Of course, if something wasn't broken, Shawn made it his personal mission to 'fix' it.

"Your channels are all blah. Let me hook you up with some nice hard heavy metal!"

"Spencer, don't touch my car. You can occupy your seat, but that's it. Keep your hands to yourself."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, I sure do."

"You're no fun."

"Do you want me to repeat what I did back at the precinct? Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes and yes." Shawn flashed his white teeth at Lassiter, who nearly caused an accident when he looked back.

"You're a twisted individual, you know that, Spencer?"

"Is that why you love me?" Shawn made a mock-kissy-face.

Carlton sighed. _He's just messing with you as usual. Just ignore him._

He managed to do exactly that for a record of 5 seconds until Shawn poked him on his shoulder. "What?"

"Isn't this their mansion?" Shawn pointed to his right, where indeed was a view of their destination.

"Yes", Lassiter grunted. He cursed under his breath. It annoyed him greatly that this man-child of a temporary partner could throw him off so easily. He drove through the gate after nodding to the gate keeper.

Inside the mansion they were greeted by a rugged 40 year old man who had all his hair still intact and then some (through his shirt they could see a chest that would put Bruce Willis to shame). He shook Lassiter's hand and introduced himself as Gary Alda. When he was about to grab Shawn's hand, Shawn decided it was time to let his inner (yeah, right) Spencer out. He threw his arms wildly in to the air and started spazzing. As he danced around, he saw pictures of Mr. Alda with his wife. Fishing. Tandem cycling. "Oh oh oh oh!" He cried (1) and grabbed Mr. Alda's arm, who struggled to break free and looked thoroughly annoyed with him.

"What is the meaning of this? Can you explain this man's behavior, detective Lassiter?"

Lassiter sighed. "This is our department's psychic detective. He'll act as my temporary partner while O'Hara, my actual partner is absent."

Mr. Alda's face turned red with anger. He grabbed his phone and dialed a number. "Karen? You sent me a **psychic**?"

He was quiet for a while to listen to the Chief's explanation. "You've got to be kidding me. My wife is dead and you give me a fortune cookie to find out what happened to her?"

Shawn noticed that his antics hadn't received the usual welcome, so he stopped in his tracks and started to examine the house more carefully. Lassiter was mortified and not really comfortable being stuck defending the man he usually tried to take down, but he felt it was his job to stand by his partner...whoever he was.

After another minute of yelling, Mr. Alda hang up the phone and turned to the other two men in the room. He pointed at Shawn. "You. Out." He looked as if he was going to harm him, so Shawn started slowly backing away from him. To Shawn's surprise, Lassiter came to his rescue. The detective stepped forward, placing himself between Mr. Alda and the psychic.

"Mr. Alda, Mr. Spencer's techniques may be unconventional, but he's been assigned to this case, and you're simply going to have to put up with him. Now, tell us in your own words what happened."

Mr. Alda grunted, but seeing no other option, he sat down on his couch and told them to do the same.

Shawn and Lassiter sat side by side opposite to the man in front of them, who seemed to be finally cooling down a notch.

"Alright. I was in the academy at the same time as Karen was. I also met my wife there. After graduating, however, I realized that what I really wanted was to get into financing, and I was quite successful, as you can see." He looked around his living room that oozed wealth. "My wife never really took to my success, I'm afraid. She grew up poor and didn't know how to life with money to spend. She stayed on her path as a cop and was a head detective in Nebraska. Then this low-life took a shot at her and punctured her left lung. The doctor said he could fix her up but her lung was busted, so she couldn't do any strenuous activities anymore. She had to quit her job, which was quite devastating for her. I thought moving here would do her some good but she wasn't really happy anymore. A few weeks before her death she seemed to get her spark back, you know? She was like her old self again. It's just so.." He trailed off. For a moment he looked vulnerable, then he remembered that he was in company and he caught himself.

"So, you find whoever did this to her or you weep and you do it."

A half an hour later:

Back in Lassiter's car, Shawn was trying to get into a comfortable position to doze off. "Her life sure didn't sound peachy."

"No. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was a suicide", Lassiter agreed as he started the car.

"Do we know better?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Chief said she was murdered, but I have yet to hear a cause of death on her."

Lassiter raised his eyebrow and started browsing through the file for an autopsy report. He picked up his phone and called the precinct. After a few 'uh-huh' he hang up and turned to Spencer. "Apparently they have yet to perform an autopsy. It starts in 10 minutes."

At the coroner's office:

"Do any of you boys want to make the first incision?" The coroner had learned that a little humor and inappropriate suggestions were key in trying not to go bonkers around all the dead people.

Excited, Shawn raised his hand but Lassiter slapped the hand away. "Down, Spencer." He nodded to the coroner. "Begin, by all means."

The coroner started his tape. "Subject: Alda, Allie."

Shawn looked at the body. She had been a tall woman with quite lovely features. She was slightly younger than the Chief and her red hair was much longer. What she had seen in a man like Gary went beyond Shawn's comprehension. _I suppose the man has some sort of brute charisma, but still._

Speaking of unlikely attractions, Shawn shot a sideways glance at the head detective standing next to him. Shawn had been in love with Abigail, that he was sure of. He'd also been attracted to Jules, but maybe more for the forever ending dance they had going on. Sure, he loved her, frequently thought about sleeping with her, but he also loved Gus, and he most definitely did not want to sleep with him. _The man's my best friend_._ So what's this thing with Lassiter? Am I bi?_ Shawn shrugged. He didn't like restricting definitions, so he decided he was more of an 'equal opportunist'.

He'd always gotten a kick out of teasing the older man, even going so far as to sit in his lap (this hadn't lasted long). Getting Lassiter to handle him roughly always seemed like he had won a prize. Even more so, now that being handled like that seemed to have an even more positive reaction on Shawn than previously expected. Now, all he needed to do was get Lassiter alone – and mad.

While Shawn was lost in his thoughts, the coroner, finished with his work, stepped out for a sec to go fetch some paperwork. Lassiter turned to look at Shawn, who looked as if he was in a trance.

"Spencer. You getting any of this?" Since waving his arms and poking the psychic didn't seem to have an effect on the younger man, Lassiter resorted to cupping the younger man's jaw and staring at him with the very expression he had used to get confessions out of people without even talking to them.

Lassiter was taken aback when the man whose jaw he was holding in his grip, instead of arguing, flung his arms on his shoulders. "Spencer."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"This", the psychic answered and, using his right hand, pulled Lassiter's face closer. Tentatively, he pressed his mouth on Lassiter's jaw. Then, with more courage, he moved on to his lips. He felt Lassiter stiffen against him, and when he took a peek he saw that Lassiter's eyes were wide open with shock.

Lassiter couldn't move nor think. His mind was screaming. He felt the warmth of Shawn's mouth on him, but he couldn't understand how he had gotten himself in this situation to begin with. The psychic did have a habit of making fun of him, but never to this extent.

Finally, he regained control of his arms and pushed Shawn away. "What in God's creation was that?" Shawn didn't reply fast enough, still caught up in the kiss, so Lassiter shoved him to get a reaction.

"Ouch! Lassie, gently, I'm not one of your re-enactment cannons."

Lassiter was about to cause the other man a World of pain, but they were interrupted by the return of the coroner.

"So, in conclusion, the cause of death is bleeding to death because of the knife wounds on her arms and legs."

"Is it possible that this was a suicide?" Lassiter asked.

The coroner gave him a very surprised look. "I hardly think it's possible this was anything **but **asuicide. Weren't you briefed about this earlier?"

Lassiter and Shawn looked at each other. What was going on?


End file.
